


unfurled, we're just a story

by phandomestic



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Regency, Angst, F/M, M/M, Mild Smut, Regency Romance, dont hate me, ending is open to interpretation, i love angst too much someone stop me, i mean it was the early 1800s so, it's not a Happy I'm telling ya now..., the diction is quite snobbish ngl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 12:50:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8533738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phandomestic/pseuds/phandomestic
Summary: The year is 1817. April blooms and the Social Season is fast approaching; a time for the rich and prosperous to leave their country estates and arrive in London, the perfect backdrop for festivities and to some, the grandest marriage market in the world. The assumed role of the gentry is to become besotted with and court the wealthiest, most suitable ladies to offer; however, not all gentlemen are too keen on upholding their honor, not all are willing to sacrifice their happiness for marriage. These gentlemen have no other choice. Regency Phan AU.





	1. The London Season - Spring, 1817

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is one of my fics for Phandom Big Bang 2016! I have a lot of gratitude for my beta, Becca (skyboidjh on tumblr), for being an amazing person and mini cheerleader while I completed this fic. In additon, there is my artist, Klara (seraphiclester on tumblr), who also encouraged me and produced the most beautiful artwork ever??? Check it out here: http://seraphiclester.tumblr.com/post/153076175693/my-only-hope-is-that-at-long-last-youve-found
> 
> This is something more left field for me, as I've never done anything remotely historical before. Since I am so enamored with anything to do with historical/period pieces, I just had to give this one a go. As this is a historical piece, below is a mini glossary of words you may not be familiar with in Regency England (as well as a disclaimer for historical sticklers who will say hey! wait a minute... that's not accurate) 
> 
> Glossary of Regency terms you may need to know:
> 
>  
> 
> Barrister - a lawyer entitled to practice as an advocate, particularly in the higher courts.  
> Cotillion - an 18th-century French dance based on the contredanse.  
> Gentleman's Club - a members-only private club set up by and for British upper class men in the 18th century.  
> Gig - a light two-wheeled carriage pulled by one horse.  
> Master of Ceremonies - responsible for introductions, instructing the musicians, approving or rejecting dance selections, maintaining order and settling any disputes at the ballroom  
> Molly House - a term used in 18th and 19th century England for a meeting place for homosexual men. These meeting places were generally taverns, public houses, coffeehouses or even private rooms where men could either socialize or meet possible sexual partners
> 
> DISCLAIMER: Historically speaking, the correct form of address in 1817, even between "intimate" partners, were solely Mr. [Last Name] for the eldest son and Mr. [First & Last Name] for the younger. However, I decided to take artistic liberty and simplify this to Daniel and such, simply to make it a more comfortable read. In addition, Dan and Phil will refer to each other as such (Dan and Phil) despite first name address only typically having occurred between childhood friends when they didn't have peerage. Despite this one hiccup (and I'm sure others will occur later on, I'm saying this now so that there isn't too much of a focus on historical inaccuracy - as that would be ridiculous to both me and readers). Dan & Phil will address other characters in this fic through the correct form of address. For example, Chris Kendall will simply be referred to as Kendall, same with PJ (Liguori), and Dan's Lady (Adelaide) Lovell, but in the narrative I, the author, will call them by their regular names if that makes sense? You'll see what i mean.
> 
> Alright, enough of my long babbling. I hope you enjoy!

_16 October 1816_

_My Dearest Daniel,_

_I apologise for taking this long to write to you. I’ve drafted many letters that were never sent, as none I’ve attempted thus far felt right and true to my heart. In lieu of such a fabricated letter that would tell you nothing of substance, perhaps only a generalised recount of some extravagant affair that occurred, I can no longer deny these letters are merely a masquerade for the words occupying my mind every second of every day. Not a moment goes by where I haven’t thought of the events that transpired this past spring. Despite all efforts I’ve taken to ignore the passion burning within me, my thoughts are plagued and my heart is aflame with the image of you. This past season has helped me to see the truths I was once too blind to realise. What we have between us stretches far beyond your chest flush against mine, what I feel extends to the moon above and beyond. This confession may paint me as a madman, but what is love without madness? What I realised after all these years is: I love you. I am enamoured by you. Would I be mistaken to assume you feel the same way, too? I desperately hope that this letter will not break the bond that we have, but I cannot stand by and hold what I feel alone any longer. I think it fair for you to know the truth and if I cannot avoid complication, then so be it._

_P.L._

\--

_30 November 1816_

_My Dearest Philip,_

_I still remember the day we first met. That warm June in 1812, when the Season was coming to a close and ironically enough, we were both lamenting on the failure of our first. I was discouraged because I had ruined my chance with a Lady that year, but you smiled and admitted that you had hardly tried because you were too afraid to get on the horse, quite literally. You were so kind and funny, charming -- at the time I didn’t realise what was so harmless could be so fatal. If I had only known you felt this way, then perhaps I wouldn’t’ve spent such a time refusing to admit those truths myself. I feel for you what I’ve never felt for anyone to such a degree in my entire life. Maybe I always have, but I didn’t know it was an option for people like us. Between you and me, I hope it is. Maybe it could never truly work here or now, but I’m willing to give what I can manage and prove your passions are one with mine. Oh, and if you must know. I love and am enamoured by you, too. In case that wasn’t already so painfully obvious._

_D.H._

\--

_6 January 1817_

_My Dearest Daniel,_

_Ah, that first day. It was a long time ago, and yet it feels as if it happened yesterday. I remember it clearly. I was drawn to you immediately then. You were only a stranger and yet I felt it was my mission to console you so I didn’t hesitate to act accordingly. At first I thought I was being far too bold, with your eyebrow raised curious and your lips pressed together deciding what to make of me-- but then you smiled. I knew immediately what I did was the right choice. Before I knew it, you were a constant in my life and I couldn’t be happier. I find it odd, rather amusing how those days blended into weeks, and weeks turned to months. Time was no longer linear from day to day. Time began to operate between the day I last saw you and the day we could have reunited once more. All those days spent with you in London were indescribable. I no longer cared about the Season, or courting a wife. I cared about you. Talking to you, touching you… all else becomes forgotten. I think I much prefer my life in this way._

_P.L._

**The London Season - Spring, 1817**

The promenade was a welcome distraction. Having been in discussion over his most private and shameful matters with his family prior this 19th of February, Phil had been certain allowance into the Season would not be granted. Yet as it were, his dear brother Martyn was whom he must express his gratitude to.

In the absence of Martyn’s amiable nature, and in some respects, his own father’s, Phil may have been shunned after the discovery, or far worse-- persecuted.

He claims full responsibility for arising suspicion within his parents. Hindsight’s burden shows it is far too late to lament on not keeping a closer eye on all the letters he had exchanged with Daniel, those of which were scattered about in his study at the Lancashire country house publicising his utmost passion and tenderness for the younger gentleman.

Tolerance was the word for what Phil had experienced after his confession. A firm gaze from his father and a matched warning from his mother held the silent condition: _continue as you are, but if you are found guilty, you tarnish our name and it is beyond our hands_. He was only flooded with relief that they did not hand him over themselves, which he supposes would make the most sense, all things considered. After all, the Lesters needed to maintain their respectable, well-mannered appearance, and it’s social suicide to admit their second, unmarried son for sodomy.

At the same time; however, Phil did not shy away from making it abundantly clear he was no longer concerned with courting a lady. Those words were met with ambivalence, but the concluding reaction had no major impact in the end. The Lesters carried on with their days, albeit tersely, and it wasn’t all too difficult an adjustment to make by the time their coach pulled in to London.

His brother is already set to inherit the estate, while Phil’s profession as a barrister gained him respectability and renounce. Choosing not to marry was hardly a capital offence, although deemed a loss and missed opportunity by other families who eyed Phil in hopes of marrying their daughter into the distinguished Lester clan. But that was not a concern Phil held as he contentedly made his way to his favourite molly house in Town.

“Mister Kendall?” Surprise colours Phil’s face at the sight of this familiar man, seated in the center of the tavern, a glass of French claret poised in his hand while he animatedly chatted with other men surrounded, listening intently to what he said. Phil’s voice catches Christopher Kendall’s attention so he raised his drink to motion Phil over to him, an equally surprised and pleased smile tugging at his lips.

“Gentlemen, it would be my pleasure to continue our chat another time,” he all but _purrs_ at the men around him, “but my undivided attention is now due for a good old friend.”

“Kendall,” Phil shakes his head, in parts in disbelieving and  happy when he seats himself across from the man, now alone as the other men dispersed, “I cannot express how delighted I am to witness your return. You truly had us troubled when we last saw you, I must say.”

“ _Bonjour_ Mister Philip,” Chris smilies, pressing the palm of his hand flat on Phil’s shoulder. “To think I would keep myself away for too long, well, I was under the impression you knew me better than that.”

“Oh! Kendall, you must believe I have no ill intent with my words--”

“Lester, Lester, Lester. Ever the worrier, I see,” he laughed good-naturedly as he brought the French claret to his lips. “I do believe you have no ill intent, not a single bit in your veins. That is precisely why I’ve decided to return.”

“Where did you go?” Phil implored.

“France. Sodomy is no longer persecuted there, did you know? Hardly makes a difference really, but it’s certainly more comfortable. Perhaps there is some good to a Revolution.”

“Indeed. We placed our bets on where you could have gone. France is accommodating, I suppose.”

“Truly, it is. Which is why I’m inviting you to come with me.”

“Come with you?” Phil gazed curiously. “To France?”

“Why of course. Lester, I cannot even begin to tell you all the opportunities to flourish in such a city. Frequent love affairs with not an ounce of hesitance. I have a place with a few friends and I thought it fair to let you know and invite you.”

“Kendall, that is far too kind of you…”

“So, say yes and we shall go immediately! Unless, of course, you are still infatuated with marriage to a lady,” he can’t ignore the indecision in Lester’s face.

“No, that’s not it at all. In fact, I’ve already decided I no longer have any interest in those affairs,” he hesitates. “Though, I cannot give you a legitimate answer at present. If only for the reason that our situation has turned upwards, and we have finally found an agreement that makes my heart sing with joy--”

“ _We_?”

Rose coloured Phil’s cheeks once more at the question. He had forgotten. It had been over two years since they’ve last spoken, how could Chris have known about the more... recent developments?

“Yes,  _we_. I’m sure you remember Mister Howell.” A nod from Chris and Phil continues. “We’ve been having an affair.”

Chris’ expression does a number of things: first shock, a bit of amusement, then full-on delight. He slaps Phil on the shoulder, and Phil himself is startled by the sudden contact.

“My apologies, I should have mentioned physical contact has been treated more liberally by myself and others within our social circle in France. Never mind _that_ , congratulations. I don’t know why I didn’t guess before. This is truly a cause for celebration,” he says, standing to retrieve another glass of claret for Phil.

Phil laughs at Chris’ antics and nods gratefully when the drink is handed to him. “As I mentioned, I’m unsure if Daniel and I are finally where I’ve wanted us to be all this time. I truly didn’t think this was in the realm of possibility-- for any of us.” He catches Chris’ slight frown and sighs.

“Before you apologise, don’t.” Chris says, all too familiar with Phil’s habits. “You have no ill intent, ever. I’m glad you’re happy. At least one of us is.” Phil frowns in return but Chris smiles again. “Maybe you can invite Howell to come with us.”

“Possibly. That would be a dream, wouldn’t it?” Phil muses, taking a sip of the claret.

Chris leans forward, curiosity and mirth in his eyes when he tells Phil pointedly: “Now, how about you tell me more about how you and Howell started an affair?”

\--

Hyde Park was equally the best and worst location to think. While it was the place to see and be seen, he wasn’t too keen on the latter due to obvious reasons. Of course he bowed at acquaintances who passed by, and introduced himself politely to anyone who approached, but this location held sentimental value to him above all else. He can remember many days he’s walked along the paths with Dan, all smiles and pleasantry between them. It was entirely too different now.

A week has passed since Phil and Chris reunited in the molly house, but Chris’ suggestion still turns itself over and over again in Phil’s head like a favourite book. He mulls over the thought of inviting Dan with him to France, his imagination running wild with promise and happiness. France and Chris happened at the right moment, but Phil had one very important predicament to think otherwise.

After a week, it was puzzling to Phil how he had yet to cross paths with Dan. Their typical fashion was to waste no time to chat with each other after being apart for months. In addition, their indisputable love letters should have been a testament to how they longed for each other -- but this was causing Phil to reconsider.

In fact, in every place they typically met, Dan was nowhere to be found. Not at Hyde Park, Covent Garden, or even Bond Street. Another week passed by and still, nothing had changed.

It’s another fortnight when Phil reaches the limits of his patience at last and goes to Belgrave Square himself, arriving at the Howell’s doorstep.

“Gregory, I hope your afternoon is going splendidly,” Phil greets the butler he has come to recognize after multiple visits. “I don’t suppose Mister Howell is here?”

“A moment, sir,” Gregory says, then whispering to a maid, presumably to retrieve the gentleman. “Would you like to come in for refreshments?”

“No, that’s alright Gregory. A word with Mister Howell will do.”

“Very well then.” The butler nods and steps away from the door to make way for Dan. The last remnant of irritation fades away the moment Phil sees the other man standing opposite of him.

“Not here,” Dan says before Phil can get a word out, chagrin evident all the while admitting he’s expected Phil to turn up sooner or later. “We can take a gig and converse _elsewhere_.”

“Elsewhere is preferable,” Phil agrees. “Certainly wouldn’t want someone to eavesdrop.”

“Covert as we are,” Dan begins as he leads them to the gig. “One could never be too careful. In fact, gossip among others is an opportunity never missed. We would be the talk of the Town.”

“I believe I already am,” Phil teases. He observes the way Dan tries to keep his grin to himself, all the while flicking the reins and getting the horse to move them along the road. Phil’s eyes look up to the sky as they ride peacefully, though his mind is running a frenzy.

Has it been so long? His hand aches to reach out, feel the warmth of Dan’s cheeks beneath his fingertips. But he doesn’t dare act upon it, not when they’re in the public eye. So Phil leans back and relaxes as he does so, deciding to wait until they’ve reached their destination. They had no shortage of time, after all.

The moment Dan steps off the gig, Phil leads him through the door of the molly house and immediately presses his lips hard against the other man’s. This tavern was a favourite of theirs without question, for such displays of affection hardly received a bat of an eye. Furthermore, the molly house had many gentleman forgoing bashfulness in trade of uninhibited _passion_.

Something of a whisper emits from Dan’s throat when his back hits the wall, as a result of surprise that is neither displeased nor unwelcome. Never has Phil kissed him so tenderly, ardently, fiercely, and Dan lost himself in the moment to return the favour. His hands were positioned on the sides of Phil’s face, while Phil’s own hands pulled him in closer by the waist.

He blushes hotly under Phil’s gaze when they parted to breathe, a shiver running from his the base of his head to the tip of toes when Phil whispers: “you haven’t any idea”- a kiss to the shell of Dan’s ear- “how much”- and the pulse on his neck - “I’ve missed you. Where have you been?”

Dan is breathless when he’s finally granted the opportunity to explain himself. He pulls Phil aside and has them sit at a table nearest to them. He spots Mister Kendall observing them from the opposite side of the tavern.

“You didn’t tell me Kendall has returned,” Dan comments.

“I would have, if only I’d seen you once in a fortnight.” Phil’s eyes are incredulous, always pondering.

“I suppose you’re right.” Dan stiffens. “I’ve been at gentlemen's clubs.”

“Gentlemen's clubs? What are you doing there? You’ve not been to one in years. _That_ was the talk of the Town, when we halted our visits and became a sort of rare occasion…”

“Yes, I suppose it’s caused us quite the notoriety as I was told.” He sighs again. “This is my own fault and I should have known you were-- _are_ more perceptive than I hoped. Now that’s not to say I wanted to paint you as naïve wholly, but I must confess my own selfish reasoning. I do owe you an explanation, although I’m hesitant to explain. You see, there’s been a change for this season…”

“A change?”

“Indeed, this change is no small one. As much as I’d like to avoid this, I must confess to you: this will be my last season.” A glimmer of hope shone in Phil’s eyes, but the glimmer faded as soon as Dan continued. “It’s my parents. They’re -- in disbelief. How could it have been, one, two, four years in London and I’ve still yet to find an eligible lady to marry? You and I both know the exact reason, and I’m admitting all you’ve expressed in your letters are sentiments I… return.”

“They are?” Phil asks quickly, clinging to anything in Dan’s words that will say all they’ve experienced wasn’t for none.

“I do. Oh, Lester I’d sooner be a liar if I dare to say you make it easy. These years blended into a matter of when I was with you and when I was not. I, too, had no concern for the marriage mart-- yet I should have known this bliss was to end eventually.”

“Beyond my daily agenda of having to attend balls, being acquainted with ladies and placing calling cards, I was avoiding you because I didn’t know how to tell you. I was sure you’d despise me, want to never see me again and leave--”

“Do you want me to?” Phil asks, placing a hand at Dan’s cheek and looking straight into his brown eyes.

“No.”

“Then, I won’t,” he insists, and Dan smiles.

Phil does this all the while resisting to say this may also be his last season too, but for an entirely different and more freeing reason. Throughout the entire exchange, Phil could see Chris in the corner of his eye chatting with another man but still shooting a glance at them every now and again. He couldn’t help but ponder about the situation at hand, thinking back to their conversation a few weeks ago and the proposition Chris offered.

“Would you like to come to my place in Mayfair?” He asks instead, thumbing the blush on Dan’s cheek. The tavern was charming itself, but was not a place like Mother Clap’s, which could allow for the terribly tender and private matters. Additionally, if Phil is to discuss _other_ matters, there was a much better location he knew for it. Dan nods, not being able to find resistance in him.

They exit the tavern and this time, Phil takes the reigns of the gig and brings them to his household. Once they’ve arrived and scurried up to Phil’s room, and peculiarly without interruption by the house staff or even Phil’s family (a fact Dan will ask later) , it was Dan’s turn to take Phil by surprise.

“ _You_ haven’t any idea--” the door shuts and Dan pulls Phil flush against his chest to kiss him, but the other man wastes no time in fumbling with his trousers. “How much _I’ve_ missed you.”

“Mm, I can show you how much _I’ve_ missed you,” Phil mumbles against Dan’s neck. They both shiver when their lips meet and Phil licks his way into Dan’s mouth, chasing his own taste desperately.

“Please do,” Dan groans, heat shooting up his spine when Phil presses his hardness against his. The older man slides down to his knees and Dan loses himself to madness.

For presently the eldest unbuttons the other's breeches and pulls them down fully, and removing the barrier, brought out into view his pale shaft, when after handling and playing with it a little, all received by Dan without other opposition than certain wayward coynesses, was ten times more alluring than repulsive. Phil could feel himself growing fully hard against the front of his trousers, the image of Dan above him, red in the face and gazing intensely at him in return was enough.

With a single tug, they arrived at the foot of Phil’s bed, Dan allowing the weight of Phil’s body to press against him as they kissed.

“Lord help us all,” Dan preens as Phil removes his cravat and lips attach to his neck, sucking and spiking heat within his loins, blazing.

“I’m uncertain the Lord will be of any help now,” Phil chuckles, unbuttoning Dan’s tailcoat, then his waistcoat, so he can see his partner bare and aching under him. He observes the other man intensely, the paleness of his skin -- although not as pale as Phil himself -- smooth and hard muscle all at once, looking to be made of marble, like the Renaissance’s finest sculptures, and his lips plump, the brown of his hair messy and tousled. The length of his shaft is hard and twitching against his stomach. Dan looks utterly _debauched_.

The younger gentleman squirms with impatience under Phil’s gaze, ready to plead, desperate for Phil’s touch once more.

“If you wish to be a tease, now is certainly not the time,” Dan all but whines, as Phil appears to take his sweet time.

“On the contrary, I believe it is the best time,” he says, inching closer and just barely touching his fingertips on the side of Dan’s neck, on the place where the mark of his lips left behind the hue of a dark rose. “After all, you’ve waited all this time. You can wait more.”

“ _Please_ ,” Dan whines again, no longer attempting to hide his desperation when Phil’s finger is tracing a line from his neck, down to his stomach, and just barely brushing against his length. He’s always dreaded when Phil was acting especially coquettish, simply because he’s always at his wit’s end and loses modesty, politeness, any common decency whatsoever.

Phil relents and removes his own clothing. Slowly. Dan is hardly able to bite back a groan at the display. It isn’t more than another second before Phil accepts Dan’s pleas, kissing him tenderly and touching him. Scandalous as they were, the sensation of skin on skin, hot and impassioned, was familiar and missed. In the darkness, there were only two, forgotten to the world and re-remembering one another.

\--

Phil wakes to Dan shifting off the bed and pacing around the room. It’s dawn, the room barely lit, but he can still see concern in his lover’s face. Phil’s come to adore Dan’s emotional expressiveness, like he lays it all out bare, such a rarity between men in these days. Dan has yet to realise Phil is already awake when he stops his pacing and sits at the foot of the bed, his back hunched over and elbows resting on his bent knees.

Phil slowly moves forward and hugs Dan from behind. Dan still doesn’t say a word but his breathing calms at a more even pace with each second.

“You’re better than I deserve, did you know that?” he finally says, turning his head slightly to look at the other man.

“That’s not true,” Phil says pleadingly, dread in his stomach. Yet through this, his countenance remains firm and laced with caution. “What’s really the matter?”

Dan shifts in his arms and Phil sighs. He shifts his bare body next to Dan’s instead so that he can look at him directly.

“This affair, all that we’ve had- it’s so much more for me. So much more, I wish we never did this at all.”

Phil could only stare in horror, feeling more nauseated by the second.

“-- Now you’re tethered to me, do you understand? If I were less selfish, I would be able to let you go, spare you--”

“ _Spare me_?” Phil’s whisper is harsh, enraged at the prospect. Dan hushes him by placing the palm of his hand on Phil’s chest, fingers sifting through the little tufts of hair there.

“I more than love you, and cannot cease to love you. You are to me dearer than all the world besides, and you always will be. This feeling, I’m at times fearful it isn’t enough. Since 1815, oh Philip, I cannot express the fear that vexed me when at a moment, I knew my heart was soft for you -- and yet I feel unworthy of your love. I’m sorry.”

“Daniel, please believe with my utmost convictions I also love you, too. How much more obvious would I have to be? If not from the countless letters I’ve written, then from how I can hardly stand to be apart from you.”

“I have my doubts, is all.”

“Don’t. It’s unnecessary and holds no truth. What is our truth? This.” He brings Dan closer to him and places a chaste kiss on his lips. “Do you understand?”

“I do,” he sighs. For now, it is enough.

“Come join me for breakfast,” Phil offers. “The least you can do for avoiding me.”

“Will you hold this over me forever?” Dan asks and Phil grins.

“Indefinitely.”

\--

To say the breakfast was uncomfortable would be an understatement at best. It goes swimmingly, if not for the air of intensity filling each bit of silence in their polite conversation. It certainly isn’t as if this is the first time Dan has joined Phil for breakfast with the rest of his family there, but at this time it seems as if Phil’s family is extra attentive to every move he makes. The only person not treating Dan more unusually than normal is Phil himself, but even he is far from content.

And that may be that Phil had yet to disclose to Dan what the rest of his family knows. He wouldn’t say he’s to blame alone, not when most of the previous night had been solely dedicated to _reminding_ each other how they felt, in multiple definitions of the word. But luckily, breakfast service didn’t last too long, and the entire Lester family did not sit around for longer than necessary. Even as family members began to leave and tend to their agendas, Phil was hardly in relief just yet, as Dan continued to cast him a questioning glance. Only when the two gentleman were completely left alone, save for maids cleaning up, did Dan dare to ask: “Care to explain?”

Well, Phil doesn’t _care_ to, but it isn’t as if he has a say in the matter.

“Prior to this season…” Phil begins, to which Dan prys with a raised brow. “They came upon all the letters we’ve written.” He ignored the bewilderment in Dan’s face. “Not all of them, but enough to where I could not avoid it. I mentioned… our situation.”

“I beg your pardon. You mentioned…?”

“All of it.”

“Oh, lovely.”

“They’re being cordial about the matter, as you’ve seen. It could be worse.”

“Good God! A relief, I’m sure!”

“It’s hardly a concern, I promise you,” Phil insists. “Come here.”

Dan looks to the side unsure, wary of the maids and servants who shouldn’t stick their noses in what doesn’t concern  them-- but it isn’t a rarity to come across betrayal from the help.

“Come here,” he says again. “Not a word of what we do in this household will be spoken of outside.”

“You’re positive of this?”

“Very much so,” he affirms, the statement sealed when one of the maids catches his eye and nods in confirmation. “We all have an agreement in here.”

Dan visibly relaxes and stands as Phil does, walking forward so they meet in the middle. Phil knows without a doubt Dan is able to discern a bit of hesitance in the way he carries himself.

“I want you to know that we will have no trouble here. If you can handle a bit of silence and admittedly, the occasional scrutiny, there’s no need for complication.”

“If only complication were easy to avoid altogether…”

“I know,” he pauses for a moment before uttering: “and I’ve had the need to tell you, I’ve found a way to.”

“I don’t follow…” Dan trails, lost in Phil’s point as well as the deep blue of his eyes.

“Kendall has made his return, you remember?”

“Oh, of course! What wretched anguish he must have felt toward Mister Liguori, the poor fellow. To not only be absent from Liguori’s wedding to his Lady, but cease attending the Season entirely? Attending the wedding would have been asking for too much, wouldn’t it? Liguori and Kendall were truly a match to be meddled with… well, once upon a time.”

“Similar to us, do you suppose?”

“Indeed, although I’d prefer to think we are greater.”

“In any matter, Kendall has returned and upon a conversation we had not too long ago, he revealed to me that he has been spending his days in France all this time.”

“France, do you say? How _peculiar_.”

“One can no longer be persecuted there, since the Revolution.”

“Ah, I remember. Now that makes good sense. Good for him, as long as he is happy.”

“Yes, he is better now. This is a happiness he wishes to share with me, and as a consequence, he was inclined to extend an invitation for me to join him.”

“Pardon?”

“More importantly, I would like you to consider the offer which I extend to you as well. Come to France with Kendall and I. Perhaps there we _can_ avoid complication altogether.”

The flicker of hope in Phil’s chest almost instantly blew out when he was met with a reaction he did not quite anticipate.

“Have you gone mad?” Dan hardly breathes. ”You speak of nonsense!”

“The intention is not to deceive you, Daniel, please understand. My passions are very much authentic--”

“Do not think I can be gulled by such an outrageous proposition, either.”

“You are distressed,” Phil observes in Dan’s face. “Why is that?”

“Because this is madness!”

“We’ve become a sort of acquaintance to madness by now, have we not? Without madness, how are we to discern the level to which I care for you and you care for I? This passion you and I haven’t the gall to ignore, and will not ignore even if presented the opportunity? Madness it is, yes, but because it is madness why should that mean it is impossible?”

Dan is far too conflicted, far too entrenched in discomfort and insecurity, and Phil cannot help but wonder where he made a mistake. The younger man’s distress tears Phil apart, and he cannot resist the hand that tries to comfort his lover by soft strokes on his back. It’s a push and pull, a war between Dan’s natural instinct to curl into the touch and feeling without thinking; yet there was the strict warning, refusing to let him forget all that is expected of him by not only his parents alone, but all of society.

“I have an obligation, Philip,” He tenses. “I was right all along, we should have never let us get to how we are now.”

“ _Mister Howell_ , you are evidently misled in that notion. I beg of you to not say such harrowing words.”

“Is it not better,” his voice trembles, his eyes glassy. “To tell a lie to my own being, than it is to accept the truths I cannot change?”

“You love me.”

“More than anything.”

“So why not say yes?”

“I must go,” Dan says in a sudden rush, pulling away from Phil as if he’s been burned. “I have an itinerary to follow and preparation for my day forward. I apologise. I love you.” He kisses Phil on the forehead once and backs away, already rushing out the door before Phil can get another word in. He hears the horse outside neigh and within a few seconds, all is quiet.

“Have I done something wrong?” Phil muses to no one in particular, but at that moment his eyes lock with Butler Ramsbury’s, who had entered the room and left it multiple times throughout breakfast service and his chat with Dan. It’s no question he, along with the rest of the house staff, had been listening in on their entire exchange.

“I’m afraid this is not my place to tell.”

“I am asking _you_. Have I done something wrong?”

Startled at the prospect of actually conversing to his master about private matters, Butler Ramsbury speaks with hesitation; “Not something you have the means to change, sir. As I understand it, Mister Howell has certain conflict in his mind, not consequencing from a fault of yours but is at the same time a consequence _of_ you.”

“Meaning?”

“This is a predicament he must face alone.”

Phil’s sigh is exasperated. “How we’ve come to this, I am unaware.”

“In your situation, reckless as it is, it is to be expected.”

“It isn’t _reckless_.”

“It is _of_ risk. You are more fortunate than others, sir. I have no reason to elaborate further on this matter.”

Phil huffs, nearing offense in his tone.

"Mister Howell and I are well-informed of the risks posed before us and of the consequences that could sling our heads under a guillotine, do not take us as fools,” he defends.

"No," Butler Ramsbury’s words are short, in search of a phrase that hung at the tip of his tongue. "Far beyond that."  
  
The remaining dishes are gathered by the servant in silence and the incomplete sentence brings forth inquiry from Mister Philip. Ramsbury spares a glance up at him, like something of pity."Fools in love."

-

In the month that follows, Phil is no longer privy to Dan’s rationale. His time remaining in London is uncertain, all the while terribly vexed at the prospect of permanently disturbing his relationship with Dan entirely. He knew in the back of his mind that the proposition he made might’ve contributed to Dan’s avoidance.

He supposes in a version where their situations were reversed, he would act the same, but he never could have anticipated this level of elusion. To make matters worse, they still saw each other frequently, if only prompted by Phil’s own persistence.

“I don’t understand why you keep bothering,” Chris admonishes under his breath. The poor gentleman trailed after the other, who’s become desperate and started to follow a metaphorical path he recognizes all too clearly.

“If I no longer bother, it would mean I no longer care,” Phil said in a way that was entirely uncompromising. “I will always care.”

“Lester, listen to me here,” Chris stops the elder man short only a few paces from the ballroom entrance. “I understand why you’re doing this. Did you forget I was like you not too long ago?”

“ _He_ is not like Liguori,” Phil starts.

“I did not say that,” Chris quips instantly. “I did not. Don’t be so sightless, is all I am trying to convince you of.”

“Well, I can assure you I’m not. No need to worry.”

“You sound so certain of that. I was, too.”

As Phil was too unrelenting to be reasoned with, he turned and proceeded to the entrance despite Chris’ warning. Even if this interaction with Dan, like many others recently, ends up nowhere, all he needs is to _see_ him. He does without fail; only this time, the younger gentleman is already in a dance with a Lady.

Before, Dan was not all too enthusiastic about courting. Phil was familiar with the look in his eyes, as he’s displayed the same every now and again. Now, Dan is smiling and accepting another person who isn’t him. Heartache overwhelms him.

“Aren’t we in luck?” Chris announces when joining Phil at his side. “An uneven amount of ladies.”

Phil frowns deeper, melancholy in his tone as he continued to observe the couple: “Daniel used to say that every time.“

“I apologise,” Chris says. He follows the gentleman’s gaze and looks back at him with pity. “We can leave if you want to. You don’t have to stay and endure this torment.”

Phil tears his eyes away from the pair and nods hesitantly. He didn’t have to; he didn’t want to, either. As they walk to their frequented tavern and safe haven, the memory continues to pervade him.

_“We’ve outnumbered the ladies? How unusual and…_ **_unfortunate_ ** _.”_

“ _Shall we make application to the Master of the Ceremonies, then?” Phil suggests slyly._

_“That is entirely scandalous of you, Mister Lester,” A hint of a smile played on Dan’s lips. “To dance with each other, our reputation would be whispered throughout the Town.”_

_“Let them gossip. It’s all in the hands of the Master, isn’t it?”_

_Their shared smile was utterly mischievous and without another word, they walked to the Master of the Ceremonies and were sooner sent away and denied._

_“One day we’ll be allowed to dance together,” Phil chuckled._

_“I look forward to it. Until then…?”_

_“We bide our time,” he smiled and they sat at the side, supposedly watching the cotillion before them when the only thing they really watched was each other._

As for Dan, it could’ve been worse. If he was to abide by the expectations of him as a gentleman, he at least wanted to court a Lady who was enjoyable, bearable. His resistance was clear at first and he never forgot about Phil’s offer; in fact, it was a thought that plagued him daily. He wanted nothing more than to agree and run away with the man he loves wholeheartedly, but he knew his reality. He couldn’t.

So, there he was. Another day, another ball, finding no shortage of interested Ladies, but only ambivalent in the endeavor of selecting a Lady _he_ was interested in. They were all accomplished and amiable, all the qualities a respectable Lady should be. Yet none of them were Phil. That was a complication he was ready to face for the rest of his life.

When he least expected it, he became acquainted with a woman by the name of Adelaide Lovell. He enjoyed conversation with her and found pleasing company in her presence. She was kind and rather resourceful. She was not too boring, but not boisterous and without manners, either. She was just enough.

Dan knew that as he was courting Lady Lovell, he had to stop avoiding Phil; the only problem was he didn’t know how. There was too much at stake and he knew no matter which side he tugged at, he would be losing.


	2. Vauxhall Gardens, June 1817

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glossary:
> 
> Barrister - a lawyer entitled to practice as an advocate, particularly in the higher courts.  
> Cotillion - an 18th-century French dance based on the contredanse.  
> Gentleman's Club - a members-only private club set up by and for British upper class men in the 18th century.  
> Gig - a light two-wheeled carriage pulled by one horse.  
> Master of Ceremonies - responsible for introductions, instructing the musicians, approving or rejecting dance selections, maintaining order and settling any disputes at the ballroom  
> Molly House - a term used in 18th and 19th century England for a meeting place for homosexual men. These meeting places were generally taverns, public houses, coffeehouses or even private rooms where men could either socialize or meet possible sexual partners

**Vauxhall Gardens, June 1817**

 

“Mister Philip, here is Lady Lovell.”

Dan approached Phil with a convincing smile and to that, Phil could only stare back with incredulousness. At his side is the young woman Phil had come to recognize: the Lady of  _ Mister Howell’s _ choosing. 

Phil wishes he could despise and envy her, but oddly enough that never came. Sorrow, yes, and heartbreak, too; But such emotions were not directed at either. He was alone in his feelings.

The Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens, a marvelous locale for all people to meet and converse publicly, now doubled as a shield. For Dan to approach him in this manner after many months of avoidance was clear evidence of the gentleman’s astuteness. Bound by the watchful eyes of their social code, Phil had no choice but to accept this seemingly pleasant rendezvous in defeat. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mister Philip, Mister Howell regards you very highly. Any mention of your name is spoken in good nature.”

“Ah, I am pleased to hear that. Otherwise, I would be very upset with Mister Howell’s interpretation of me,” he said in a terse manner. Meeting Dan’s brown eyes, Phil could sense restraint in the furrow of his eyebrows and scrunch of his nose. 

What words Dan truly wanted to say, Phil would never know, as he said instead: “If I ever interpret you as inadequate, I would be entirely deserving of your reproach…”

“There is very little you could do to profoundly upset me.”

“You must regard me very highly, then.”

“Without a doubt,” Phil said in all of his sincerity. It quickly became a conversation of double entendres. “You sound unconvinced, but our rapport truly is brilliant.”

“Your companionship is delightful,” Lady Lovell comments, beaming in amusement. The two men flushed, having momentarily forgotten she was there.

“Lady Lovell, as you know I have some words I’d like to exchange with Mister Philip, perhaps on The Grand Walk,” Dan announces, to the surprise of Phil. Nevertheless, Lady Lovell nods and turns behind her.

“Yes, and I supposed to ask you the same, but I with Miss Pentland. Shall we gather at the top of the next hour?”

“Yes, that should be enough.”

With one last nod, she leaves the two gentlemen, not without saying: “I hope to meet your acquaintance again, Mister Philip.”  

The silence bleeds between them in the minutes after and their discomfort is too palpable. While the Pleasure Gardens bustle with commotion of people entertaining and chatting, Dan and Phil are at a loss for words. Dan motions his head and they begin to walk on the path. They look at the trees and shrubs, anything but each other. Phil couldn’t help but think of their contrast from three years before and would continue to lament on what’s been lost.

_ - _

_ “You look beautiful under this moonlight; like Pygmalion’s statue, a craft of perfection and fantasy, that which breathes life and is given it in return,” Phil whispered in Dan’s ear, pulling him close on a dark walk. These unlit paths of the Vauxhall Gardens held many secrets in the darkness, of unbridled passion and mystery. _

_ “Lester, I do believe  _ **_you_ ** _ are the one with a paler complexion.” He could hear the tease in his whisper. _

_ “Howell, I do believe I was attempting to seduce you.” _

_ “Oh, really? Was that an attempt?” _

_ “Possibly. Have I succeeded?” _

_ Dan kissed Phil on the cheek and grabbed him by the hand, pulling them deeper into the dark path. “I would say… you’re nearly there.” _

-

“Why do you still linger?” Dan finally asks. He still doesn’t meet Phil’s gaze, and the public aspect of this setting renders them confined by how they should act and what they shouldn’t say. “I have a suspicion as to why, even after my continuous evasion, which I admit was my intention. I thought enough of that would have thwarted you.”

“Your thinking is wrong. I’m still here. I want to be.”

“With the knowledge I will marry Lady Lovell, if not any other woman, you still wish to stay and watch it unfold?” He grits through his teeth, miserable and low in a whisper. His attempt to maintain repose is not without excellence, but Phil can tell the effort is despairing.

“Do you truly want me to leave?”

“It would be greater for you. France would, too, but it has to be without me.”

”I won’t leave you,” Phil decides. “I’ll remain unless you no longer wish me here.”

Dan glowers and his face becomes more pained by the second. He finally looks at him. “You  _ don’t  _ want that. Please, you deserve happiness. I can no longer give you that, not in the way we fancy.”

-

_ “Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments. Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove,” Dan murmured to Phil. His fingers were laced in Phil’s own while his other hand touched Phil’s face lightly. _

_ “Shakespeare!” Phil identified what the other gentleman was reciting instantly, and Dan could feel his cheeks lift into a smile. “How do you profess your love in such a way and then say I am the far too romantic one?” _

_ “O no! It is an ever-fixed mark,” Dan continued with a laugh. “That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wand'ring bark, whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.”  _

_ Dan kissed Phil chastely. _

_ “Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me prov'd, I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd.” _

-

“I want to stay,” Phil says again. “But if you really want me to go, I will.

“I don’t…”

“Then let me.”

“You can leave any time,” Dan reiterates. 

“I know.”

“And you realise that despite anything that may happen from here forward, I’ll be betrothed to another?”

“I do. If only you allow me to ask a favour.” 

“What is it?” Dan asks tentatively.

“Come visit us at the Molly House-”

“ _ Lester!”  _ Dan’s voice just barely manages to stay at an even tone, but the effort proves to be far more difficult because of what Phil is proposing. He is even more weary for considering it.

“This is neither the time nor place to talk about such matters. I am not asking for anything else, only a private location to converse in.”

“How many times have we gone to the Molly House and come out of it doing more than simply conversing?”

“Molly House. Tomorrow.”

“All right. Tomorrow, and only to converse.”

Dan’s hand reaches out, but it only lingers in the air when he remembers they’re in public. He clenches the hand into a fist and drops it at his side. It is neither the time nor place.

“I’ll… see you then,” Dan utters briskly before turning to find Lady Lovell. On his way, he nearly collides with Chris, who has been listening close unbeknownst to them.

“Was that necessary, Mister Kendall?” Phil chides with a shake of his head. “Eavesdropping is frowned upon.”

“Eavesdropping is frowned upon, but any person who claims they do not partake in it is a liar,” Chris defends. “You should have been more careful, Mister Philip. Any person could have overheard you both, and where would you be? In capital trouble, that’s where.”

“Untrue. Our words were too vague to be interpreted as anything but cordial.”

“Why are we on this? You and I both know my eavesdropping isn’t the problem here.”

“I’m aware. I know I’ve told you I was ready to leave.”

“That’s a euphemism if I’ve heard one.” Chris tuts. “You said you were ready to leave a fortnight ago, before then, and many more months before that.”

“You no longer wish to remain here in London and I’m a hindrance to your success elsewhere, is that it? If so, I can respect your decision to go off on your own.”

“I’m staying with you.”

“You _ are _ ?” Phil is incredulous. “Why?”

“For the very same reason you are: hope. Concerning what, I do not know, but I can sense you are not ready to let Mister Howell on his own yet. I empathise with you.”

“Thank you.”

“I am still cautious and very concerned for you. I would hate for you to feel as I did when Liguori left me for his lady. You won’t undergo this alone, I can promise you that. Whenever you are ready, we can go to France. Until you are, we shall see where this takes us.”

As it turns out, where this takes them is as expected. Dan abides by Phil’s request and went to the Molly House the following day. Also as expected, they do more than simply conversing. Old habits die hard, and falling back into their routine is sublime. Their affair is a welcome form of escapism for Dan.

What was once fear toward his passion for Phil blossomed into a daring sense of need and want. This was a dangerous game they were playing, but neither of them had the will to stop it and Dan especially had come to accept that perhaps he could have both a reputation and happiness.

Phil was not alone in his feelings after all. That could not be disputed; however, continuing to talk to one another set a painful illusion for them both. Their affair set an illusion of permanence and elasticity, all the while Dan continued in his plight. It was either that Phil is not deserving of this situation or he’s still too selfish and involved to allow the greatest good in his life to depart. Phil is still here and Phil loves him, and he cannot bear the thought of never reciprocating those feelings.

They tread lightly in those summer months, portraying radiant dispositions behind closed doors and in the public atmosphere of London. A majority of the wealthy families begin to disperse and return home in this time and their own families soon follow the rest. Phil’s family are as concerned as Chris is, although they don’t make that fact apparent. They must, after all, maintain appearances.

“Must you be so obliged to stay in London?” Phil’s mother tries once more as the Lester family’s stagecoach is ready to depart and return to Lancashire.

“Will I have to remind you why?”

“I would prefer not...”

“I do not plan to stay in London forever; only until I find no purpose remaining here.”

“In other words, until Mister Howell is on his way,” she says as a statement rather than a question, which catches Phil off guard.

“You said you preferred not to be reminded.”

“Unimportant.” She looks at her son delicately. “It is a fact one hardly needs to be reminded of. Be vigilant, Philip. Be wary and watchful. That is my only concern for you. We are an abnormality and we acknowledge that. This may very well end disastrous and it may not be what you want to hear--”

“Mother.”

“It’s only practical. Remember where you are. Be sensible.”

When summer passes, their fantasy starts to unravel.


	3. The Howell Estate, Wokingham, October 1817

**The Howell Estate, Wokingham, October 1817**

 

“I overheard it from the staff, Lester. He proposed.”

Phil nearly spits out his afternoon tea.

“ _He proposed?_ ” He whispers in such surprise, his voice is nearly shrill. A wave of dismay washes over him.  “When?”

“Yesterday afternoon.”

The gentleman stills and narrows his eyes when Dan returns to them, but a chill runs through him and signals a bout of tears approaching. How was he not suspicious before? With Chris looking more vexed than it is typical and Dan acting all too good-natured and hospitable, of course there was information being withheld from him.

It is an unfortunate moment Dan walks back into. Dan was entertaining them, as they were guests and would remain as such for quite a while, and he had momentarily left them to request something from his butler. Why he could not say it in front of them, Phil and Chris couldn’t fathom, but suddenly it made sense. Phil wonders if this revealed fact would have hurt less if he didn’t spent some of the previous night with Dan.

“I thought you knew,” Chris continues. “I didn’t want to mention it, but it dawned on me.”

“Mention what?” Dan asks as he sits next to them, incognizant of what Phil now knows.

“He didn’t want to mention his congratulations,” Phil’s smile could not be found in his eyes. “Lady Lovell must be pleased with the engagement.”

Dan is stunned into silence. He bows his head, not knowing what to say.

“Were you planning to tell me today?” Phil asks.

“No.”

“Tomorrow?”

“I don’t know.”

Chris clears his throat and stands. “I’m not part of this conversation. Don’t kill the messenger, I’ll take a horse and ride for a bit.” He smiles firmly and leaves the two in silence.

“Well, if you weren’t planning on telling me tomorrow, then I’d love to hear the timeline you’ve been thinking of.” Phil’s words are matter-of-fact and unemotional.

“I have none. It is true that I asked for the Lady’s hand in marriage yesterday afternoon. The time seemed appropriate after I asked permission from her parents and was given it -- where are you going?”

Having finished his tea, Phil stood with a pained expression on his face. He’s never found it easy to keep appearances; in retrospect, that is why the Season and all the responsibilities for the gentry never suited him. Very much like an outsider looking in, Phil was not refined or gallant. He was passionate, a rather awkward and uncoordinated person. When he felt that passion, he has no choice but to show it.

“I’m going for a walk. Beautiful day, is it not? Your garden is lovely.”

“Then let me join you.”

“Why are you making this so difficult?” Phil asks, exasperated. Dan holds Phil’s wrist lightly and Phil feels the prickle of tears as Dan leads them elsewhere. When Phil sees exactly where that is, they’re at the pavilion.

“This will only be as difficult as we make it,” Dan sighs, trying to calm his lover with a kiss. “I didn’t think to mention my proposal because I assumed it would hold no bearing on us. I falsely hoped it would not change anything. I wanted to keep you happy.”

“You are. I’m acting like a fool,” Phil murmurs in his embrace. They’re a distance away from the estate and the locale has become yet another for Dan and Phil’s privacy. “A fool in love.”

Mister Daniel Howell and Lady Adelaide Lovell were soon to be married, and that could not occur without settlement documents. As Phil was conveniently a barrister already, he volunteered to do the service for them. It was the equivalent to stabbing oneself on the foot.

Dan, in their utmost private moments, continued to assure Phil. He had grown to appreciate and love his chosen lady, but it was not in the fiery way in which he loved Phil. Phil did business with the soon to be married couple and Dan’s father, and with that, they inch closer to the marriage ceremony.

“Are you faring well?” Chris continuously asks Phil at every opportunity he gets.

“I’ll be fine,” Phil repeats. But as they say, when words are repeated, they begin to lose their meaning. Such is the case with a tired reassurance that begins to lose its truth the more he stares at Dan with all the emotions he is forbidden from having toward another man.

He even had to admit his own fault; that he was trying to find something within Adelaide to despise and would only come up short. It was a terrible thing to admit to himself, but in the end, he could not hate the lovely lady who lives up to her name.

Two weeks of arranging the documents necessary end up being two weeks too many. For Phil at least, those days crawl slowly and the countdown to the big day is a number he constantly keeps track of in his mind. All of this is not without Dan catching on.

“I know you’re hurting,” Dan utters when they’re sat on his bed. Phil’s stroking through Dan’s hair and suddenly breathes in deeply. “Only a blind man could not see the anguish that plagues you.”

“Kendall’s told you, hasn’t he?”

“He may have gotten a word in.” He drops his head and buries it in the crook of Phil’s neck. “I’ve taken your love for granted. You don’t deserve having to see me marry another. I almost wish I could run away with you.”

“But that’s impossible,” Phil sighs.

“I’d rather it not be. I love you.”

“And I, you.”

They’re startled by a knock on the door, followed by a person clearing their throat.

Dan springs up on his feet immediately and moves to the door, revealing a Lady Lovell who won’t look him in the eye. “Mister Howell, your mother sent me to tell you she has concerns about the...invitation arrangements.”

Dan turns back to Phil with a look of apology and goes to see his mother. This leaves Phil and Adelaide alone, specifically for Adelaide to stare at him in scrutiny. Phil swallows thickly and leaves the room in a hurry.

Chris is about to descend from his guest room when Phil comes rushing over and brings them back into the room. The other man looks at him strangely, trying to figure out why Phil was acting so fussy.

“Lady Lovell overheard us,” Phil explains when he’s sure no one can hear. Chris doesn’t seem to understand exactly what that means at first.

“When you say us…”

“Daniel and I. If she didn’t know before, she surely knows now.”

“Oh.”

“How could I have let this happen?”

“We do silly things when we’re in love. I, personally, have never gone that silly,” Chris sobers up instantly. “Are you okay?”

Phil’s voice cracks as he says it and the tears he’s kept at bay flowed freely. “Far from it.”

Chris finds himself having a hard time keeping it together, too. Their relation was cruel and devastating.

“Does it ever stop hurting?”

“No.” Chris shakes his head. “You only find other things to busy yourself with and occupy your time. Cheering up a friend… hoping his ending is different from yours. Running away to France.”

Phil hesitates before speaking. “Kendall? I think I’m ready.”

-

Later that night, Phil walks back into Dan’s bedroom and sees him sitting next to the fireplace. The room is entirely dark, save for the fire that burns and imprints Dan’s shadow against the paper wall adjacent to him.

“I spoke with Lady Lovell. She isn’t happy and doesn’t understand, but she says it doesn’t affect her opinion of you.” He sounds like he’s on the verge of laughing, or crying. Knowing the situation, Phil supposes it could be both. He nears closer as Dan continues to talk.

“She reminds me a little of you, did you know? She said she didn’t understand it, but she could try. She said she had always admired our relationship, but could have never anticipated it would be like this.”

His face is barely lit by the glow of the fireplace and he moves toward Phil’s touch. Dan’s tears are slow and subtle as they cascade down his face, and Phil momentarily thinks they are beautiful with the illumination of flickering flames dancing across them. Phil wipes away Dan’s tears with his thumb and replaces it with a gentle kiss on the cheek.

Dan smiles softly at the action but it doesn’t match the furrow of his brows, heartbroken and resigned to revel in Phil’s presence while he can. It doesn’t occur to him that the kiss was a final goodbye until Phil is gone.

\--

19 October 1819

_My Dearest Daniel,_

_I’d first like to apologise. This is not my first apology and it certainly will not be my last, but the more I think about all that occurred between us, it becomes a larger feat to ignore the guilt I feel. Of apologies, I’ll start with this: I’m sorry for allowing this letter to reach you. Indeed, it has been nearly two whole years since you’ve last heard from me. I’ve debated with myself on whether I could dare to contact you again. It must feel odd, out of bounds for me to do this, and I know I have no place in your life any longer. I should not have left so abruptly and all I hope is for you to have understood why._

_You and I may not have said it aloud, but there was an unspoken conversation between us in those months Lady Lovell became a part of your life. There were only two endings to this story. Yours was rooted in reality and responsibility, while mine was in the air of possibility. I could not stay in Wokingham or London any more than you could have denied the expectations to court, marry, and own your father’s estate. You must have understood my decision to leave with Kendall to France, and that this decision was to happen even if I had to leave you behind._

_There’s certain irony in this. I’ve been pondering on our conversation in March of 1817, for what is there more a gentleman can do in France than to ponder? That conversation when we thought we had a greater ending to our story than Kendall and Liguori’s... absurd! How foolish were we? After we’ve lived it, now? Nothing more separates us four at all than a name and appearance. Perhaps it always was obvious to me; I only wished to believe the alternate. At present, I am not too confident in the reason for my writing of this letter, but you know I am always one to finish what has been started. This is conceivably a form of closure in its most wretched form, and for that I am also remorseful. With all I’ve said, I want to make clear that despite second thoughts, I am not regretful and will forever cherish our days together as my best days. I do hope you are doing well._

_P.L._

\--

3 November 1819

_My Dearest Philip,_

_You will always be dear to me. You also take far too much blame for what is equally my fault. I would additionally be so bold to argue I am more at fault, but that would lead us nowhere. You’ve no idea how happy I am to hear from you. I was never angry when you left, although I did feel heartbreak and disillusionment. Making peace with the outcome took some time, and in some ways, I am still in the process._

_Since you’ve outlined your apologies, it is only appropriate I give mine. My motives were ambiguous, I had no idea what I was doing, and you were left to deal with the ramifications. While it was your decision to stay for as long as you did, I gave into the temptations only to continuously tear them from you at any moment of doubt that arose. That was not fair to you, nor was it fair to Adelaide or myself. In the end, it all turned back to me and my unwillingness to make any final decision. My convictions were fragile, while fear was my principal. Let us move ahead and think of the future, yes?_

_D.H._

_\--_

15 January 1824

_My Dearest Daniel,_

_I was not aware of the woes that come with a free man. Of course, not completely free, but as free as one can be. Men and women alike are delightful, but oh how I wish there was an individual who could rival your excellency. Do you suppose that one day it may be possible to forget one another? I do not want to, but it is a thought worthy of consideration. From day to day I would look at one and say, he is taller than Daniel. Other times, I would look and say, she could be as charming and artistic as Daniel. It is not simple to forget you. Take pride in that, in whichever way you accept this confession._

_P.L._

\--

_9 July 1824_

_My Dearest Philip,_

_I have been occupied by other matters as of late, so apologies for the delayed response. I think it is time for you to be let in on a secret I’ve been keeping: we have a child! He was born nearing the end of May. You may find it comical to read that I proposed his name to be Philip. Adelaide could not be persuaded; however, Michael is doing just fine._

_D.H._

_\--_

_1 March 1825_

_My Dearest Daniel,_

_I am so pleased to hear of Susanne’s birth. It seems as if it was only yesterday when you told me about Michael and now you have another. Thank you for sending a picture of them both! I am positive your two beautiful children will one day grow into greatness. That is, if they take after their father and mother. With your news, I have a funny story to tell you. You may be shocked to hear this, but Kendall and I have actually tried to find company within each other. To reiterate, we tried and in the end we found it was only the byproduct of two lonely men who had lost their love through the Season. We plan to travel outside of France as a result of that. Being in one place forever does not seem to work for us, after all. We will return soon enough and i’ll make sure to write to you from wherever I end up._

_P.L._

_\--_

_7 April 1842_

_My Dearest Philip,_

_We are riding to London tomorrow afternoon for this year’s Season. I hope Michael will find a respectable young Lady to marry; however, my undisclosed wish is for him to stumble upon an endearing gentleman who is afraid of horses and will flatter him tremendously. Do you think our tavern is still intact? I’m afraid I no longer have an option to see for myself with all the socialising I must do._

_D.H._

\--

_15 March 1842_

_My Dearest Daniel,_

_Imagine ourselves reuniting after Michael and Susanne have been married. If Michael inherits the Howell estate, that could very well leave you as a free man. There is still Adelaide to take care of, but perhaps we could also travel elsewhere together. That would be a dream, wouldn’t it? Ah, I should stop there. You know as well as I do the harm in wishful thinking._

_P.L._

\--

22 August 1853

_My Dearest Philip,_

_You have not written back to me in quite some time. For whatever reason that may be, I assume your life has become more enjoyable and filled with memories that have you living in the moment rather than planning to remember them. If that is the case, then I am glad. My only hope is that, at long last, you’ve found the happiness you’ve always deserved._

_D.H._

\--

  
Phil and Chris found their way back to London in 1852. Reminiscent of their times spent in the city many years ago when their marriage mart was still running, they decided to visit the tavern that started it all. They are caught in one of the last Molly House raids.


End file.
